


The Evil That Lays Hidden

by Arianissa



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A very prolific Devourer, Canon-Typical Violence, Corpses, Emotionally Shaken Jaskier, Eventual Smut, M/M, Monster of the Week, Self-destructive Jealousy, This got bloodier than I planned, While still being a Badass Bard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianissa/pseuds/Arianissa
Summary: Jaskier reunites with Geralt in a beautiful Redanian market town but it seems short-lived. Geralt must leave immediately on a hunt. Wanting more than the few minutes given him, Jaskier beseeches his travelling companions to do without him for a few days and follows the Witcher into the forests.Their hunt is disturbing, heart-breaking. And yet, their mark may not be the only hidden monstrosity unveiled to them this day.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

Bright sunshine. A coastal breeze. Energetic market chatter and birdsong, sharp and melodic. Idyllic. Jaskier could pen half a ballad based solely on the emotions this atmosphere could draw from one's heart. It truly was a remarkable little town, started as a trading post years back and had continued to prosper and grow. Even better, it seemed to attract and maintain only the finest of folk. An honest Redanian treasure, sat in the hills and forests between Tretogor and Tridam. 

An appreciative sigh passed his lips. There were few things that could make this day better. This was the thought as he started his way back toward where he had left his travel companions. The last he had a chance for before a voice called out behind him.

"I just can't seem to get rid of you, can I?" Jaskier spun so fast, he very nearly tripped himself. It couldn't have been!

"Geralt!" It was, by all the Gods, and he was thrilled to have been wrong of his fortunes. He didn't miss a beat, following his momentum forward into a jog. "Haah, you're here too! It's so good to see you, I've missed you!"

Geralt was as he always was, a pillar of security and hope. Even when Jaskier had thought he needed neither. But the black of armour, sheen of steel and silver and that face that never changed more than the occasional new thread of a scar. That face whose eyes betrayed how pleased he was in that moment. Jaskier just could not stop the swell of joy that filled his chest.

"What's brought you out this way?" Geralt opened his mouth to answer, the first syllable barely crossing the half smile he had allowed himself, when another voice cut through the air. 

"Jaskier, dear!" From the way Jaskier had been heading, a young woman approached. In her late 20s by the look of her, elegant yellow gown, bright but not enough so as to be garish, swishing with each step. It was laced with delicate brown embroidery that had been matched perfectly with the light, waved hair that fell about her shoulders. She was beautiful, just a touch of make up adorning her skin. Enough to enhance rather than improve. Cheery, deep green eyes flit between Jaskier and Geralt, then back. "Oh my, who is this fine looking gentleman with you?"

"Ah, my Lady, may I introduce to you my good friend and muse, Geralt of Rivia!" Jaskier grinned, tone full of pride. Geralt gave a small bow of his head, more out of respect for his friend than the woman, the bard was sure. But she didn't need to know that.

"Oh, the famous Witcher. A pleasure to meet you. Jaskier has told me so much." She extended a hand to Geralt. Be it expecting a shake or kiss mattered not as it was cleanly ignored. 

"I'll bet." The words were clipped, the relaxed tone of a moment before obliterated. "If you'll excuse me though, I have work to attend."

Jaskier's face fell. So much for his good fortunes. 

"You're going right away?"

"Afraid so, Jaskier. There's a Devourer that's been hunting the forests South of here. A merchant group came through last night but lost one of their women to the beast. There's a chance she's still alive." The Witcher looked genuinely regretful as he returned his attention to the bard. 

"Ah, alright." Gaze to the ground, Jaskier fell quiet for a moment, contemplating. He would never hold Geralt from his work, not when lives were at stake. But these brief few minutes, it was not fair that this should be all he could get. He resolved, eyes lifting determinedly to his travelling companion. "My dear Lady, we are due to be here for a few more days. Would it trouble you much if I were to accompany my friend in his errand? It has been some time since I was last able to chronicle his work."

"Jaskier, you don't have to. Enjoy your time here. I doubt it will be long before we cross paths again."

"Nonsense!" The woman cut into Geralt's words again. "If our dear friend here wishes to spend some time in good company then I shall not hold it against him. He will, of course, be expected to share the tale upon his return. Do you expect you'll be back by tomorrow evening? I can have a meal prepared."

Geralt didn't protest further, simply grunting and nodding. One day should suffice with this job and it did not look to be too dangerous. No harm in it, he supposed.

"You are a treasure, Lady Amarinda." Jaskier clasped the Lady's hands in his own, smile seeping his gratitude and excitement.

"Oh hush now, you'll make me blush."

Geralt turned, heading away from the market. "Go get your things. I'll wait for you at the Southern guard house. Don't be long."

He didn't intend to be. With a quick grin and nod to Amarinda, Jaskier took off, running for the inn they had lodged at.


	2. Chapter 2

As promised, Geralt was waiting when Jaskier reached the guard house, changed into something less flippant and more forest-suitable with a small travel bag over his shoulder. After a brief internal conflict, he had decided to leave his lute with his other belongings at the inn. He wasn't straying far and it would be safe with Amarinda and the others. 

Guards and Geralt were not the only folk here however. To the right, Jaskier saw a group of maybe eleven people, an almost camp around two carts. They looked agitated, anxious and kept glancing over to the Witcher. 

"That the girl's family?" Jaskier spoke quietly in the suddenly sombre atmosphere. 

"Yes." Without preamble, the two of them started heading down the dirt road that led into the trees. "They've refused to find lodgings until she is returned safe or confirmed dead."

It was a grim thought. He didn't know much of Devourers but there were tales of torture and love of fresh flesh. Mostly with children as their victims. If the poor thing was still alive, Jaskier dreaded what state they might find her in. More so if she wasn't. 

"I see." Silence hung for a few minutes, Jaskier couldn't quite bring himself to talk of lighter things on the back of that revelation. He didn't need to in the end, as it was Geralt who inquired first. 

"So, that woman? Amarinda? Not like you to stay with just one." There was a question there, beyond the obvious. Something in Geralt's eyes. 

"Oh fear not, I shan't be settling down any time soon! She is on a tour of Redania, an exploration of the soul, steeped in art and culture." He grinned, allowing the tension from a moment ago ebb away. "Myself and two other gentlemen were hired to guide and protect her."

"Protect her from what? The threat of maintaining her virtue?" Jaskier sputtered, unsure whether to laugh, defend her honour, his own or that of the other two. 

"Sir! Is that what you think of me? Well I never. I'll have you know that- What? Don't give me that look!" Geralt was as close to laughing as he ever came, enjoying the bard's attempts to deflect the accusation. Jaskier made one last go of defence, tripped over his words a few syllables in, looked at Geralt's straining facade and gave in to the laughter. "You know what? I think her virtue was gone long before we showed up! Heavens, some of the things that girl _knows_. I've had women twice her age, and certainly not the prudish kind, with more decorum in the bed chamber than her. You, of course, did not hear such things from my lovely mouth." 

"Course not." 

This was more like it. Jaskier took in a deep, calm breath, revelling in the stretch across his chest that eased his anxiety back out. Their quest here may be grim but until they tracked their quarry, he had the safety and freedom to be nothing but himself. Openly, honest and unashamedly. The air came out in an exaggerated billow, the next inhale used to fuel a light hearted timbre. "So, tell me about this thing we're off to face. I find myself woefully uninformed in more than myths and idle gossip on this one." 

"Those probably aren't far off this time." Geralt's eyes became serious again as his attention switched back and forth between the forest and his friend. "They are sadistic shits. Not unintelligent. Nocturnal hunters so if we can find her before nightfall, we have the advantage. And they tend to be pack hunters."

Jaskier paled at that last sentence. "You made it sound like there was only one!"

"Luckily for us, and this girl, that seems to be the case." Oh, that cheeky bastard paused there on purpose! "For whatever reason, this one made it here alone and there have been no reports locally or in the surrounding towns of Sabbath activity." 

There was a moment then where Geralt stopped, Jaskier stilling a step behind, and scanned over the trees on their left side. Quick as he'd halted them however, he was onward again, dismissing whatever it was he had heard as unimportant. "Those merchants supposedly weren't more than an hour from the town limits when they were attacked. With some luck, it shouldn't be long before we start finding evidence of their escape." 

Beside him, Jaskier gave a half grin and a daft salute. "I shall be ever diligent then, sir, in my endeavours to aid your search!"

Geralt tried to stop it but Jaskier saw the way his mouth twitched, that tiny tilt where another smile was trying to escape. He wondered how long the Witcher had been alone this time. At least several months, he would guess. It had been eight, maybe nine since they had last seen each other. The smiles, relaxed shoulders, the easy way he spoke to the bard. It broke his heart to think Geralt should go so long without that repose, knowing the man as he did. Jaskier, not for the first time, wished that they didn't have to walk different paths so often. Wished he could be there always to give Geralt the same safely this incredible creature afforded him. 

A wish that would no doubt go unfulfilled. But still, for every second he was able, he would ensure Geralt had that small freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading so far! Hope you're enjoying it :)  
> Chapter Three will be up on Monday~
> 
> Arianissa x


	3. Chapter 3

It took longer than expected for signs of the struggle the night before to appear. Maybe a mile or so further down the trail. And it was less than spectacular. There was a smattering of straw, half a broken fruit crate, a handful of squashed pears and one ridge of drying mud pushed out by a cartwheel. Jaskier couldn't even see any blood. If he didn't know how terrifying the presence of even the most benign of monsters could be in the dark, he would have been appalled at how easily so many men had panicked. 

Where would they even start from this? There were no broken branches, no discernable drag marks. Ok, so maybe Jaskier wasn't the best of trackers but-

Geralt was already off, slipping through the roadside flora like he knew exactly where this thing was. Probably did, Jaskier grumbled as he sulked after the man. 

Not a few steps in, he flinched. Great. While this day was glorious, the one before had been less so and the earth was still damp from the spring rain that had graced it. Graced it a little too much, right where Jaskier had put his foot. It even had the audacity to _squelch_. He sighed, pulling his boot from the mud and carrying on with just a tad more care. He would whinge about this later. A lot. 

Luckily, the ground seemed to firm up the deeper into the trees they went. As the minutes passed and the bard became reassured the ground would not try to eat his leg again, his attention drifted back to his friend. Geralt continued on purposefully but his hackles were up. It made Jaskier nervous. Everything seemed so calm around them but the way Geralt tensed made it clear something was horribly amiss. 

It didn't take long for the first sign of it to reach him. The smell. It was putrid, like offal and rot and every dark fear he could conceive. Jaskier wretched. _Gods_ , how long had Geralt been on to this? Likely from the road, with the way he could scent. It was no wonder he was on edge. Just this was too much for Jaskier and it only got worse the closer they headed. 

After the smell, it was the pebbles. Just bits here and there, like there might once have been a path. Then the bones, one by a rock, a few under that tree, could be mistaken for animal bones. Until they couldn't. Jaskier balked at the first skull. But even that wasn't the worst of it.

Through the branches and shrubbery, the shapes of buildings were forming. Three that Jaskier could see, a sort of filthy white that probably would have been pretty when clean and whole and not surrounded by corpses and stench. And corpses it was becoming. A sickening gradient from the old bone to freshly torn apart flesh, all manner of sinew and decay filling the space between. 

Geralt had his sword drawn by the time they reached the edge of the almost-clearing at the epicentre of this horror. Where the three structures stood there had been six. All were beyond repair but two now were little more than rubble. Another had survived no higher than to a man's hip. Of the ones still standing, and that description would have to be used lightly, only a single stone-built home looked like it would provide any kind of safe shelter. 

Not that any soul would feel safe here now. There were nearly a dozen bodies strewn around that were new enough to be identifiable, should anyone have the stomach to try. And countless more in worse states, filling the space between the ruins and the crumbling well at their middle. 

"Just one?" Jaskier had dared not speak until now, voice coming out small, broken. He didn't know if he wanted to vomit, sob or just run and run until he could no longer move. 

"Just one." Steady but equally quiet, Geralt confirmed it. The grip on his hilt tightened. "Stay back."

A small, unseen nod and Jaskier shifted sideways, grasping the bark of the nearest… _unsullied_ tree. If it looked like he was half hiding behind it, well, that's because he was. His day had flit through so many different acts so very quickly, there just hadn't been time to adjust. He was more than scared and he would admit that without shame. But the worst of that fear, whatever happened here he would see it clear and unobstructed. Geralt against the cause of the carnage around them. Jaskier hoped beyond hope that this thing truly was as easy to deal with as the Witcher had inferred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heey all! So this has ended up a bit darker than I had planned and I may have gotten a little carried away with the descriptions of blood and guts. Not so much in this chapter but definitely in the next. Be prepared for that~ Next chapter will be on Thursday :)  
> Toodlepip~~  
> Arianissa x


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morning guys!   
> A little warning here for the gore in this chapter.   
> I'm sorry to you and I'm sorry to Jaskier.   
> Ari x

Jaskier had nearly screeched. In that sickening quiet, as Geralt had stalked into those ruins ahead of him, approached the most intact structure like he _knew_ his quarry was there. And that bloody disgusting _thing_ had propelled itself through the threshold and into the Witcher's chest. 

Geralt had stumbled back, catching his footing a few yards back from the beast. It was far from what he had imagined from stories, further still from the image his mind presented as responsible for the carnage he and Geralt had discovered here. The creature looked foul, grey-green flesh falling and folding in an unflattering mockery of an older woman. Her sagged breasts lay jammed between her ribs and bloated belly as she hunched forward, vicious eyes not leaving Geralt's. But as hideous, _repugnant_ , as she was… for one monster split from it's pack and of less size than Jaskier to cause this kind of prolonged slaughter... And to only really be discovered _now_.

Jaskier felt the bile swirling in his stomach again, the magnitude of it hitting him hard. How many years? How many people? Snatched off that road in the dead of night, no soul close enough to hear their screams. Hunted and tormented before being ripped apart. No one ever knowing of their cruel and tragic fate. He tried to push the thoughts back down. Now wasn't the time. Right now the only thing Jaskier needed to focus on was Geralt and the girl that he truly hoped was still alive. 

Ahead, Geralt stood tense, watching the Devourer as intently as it watched him. Jaskier saw the moment it decided it would spring again, would have shouted it to Geralt had he not been sure the man would have seen it himself even before the creature knew. It lunged forward, almost lumbering except the speed and swerve was all wrong. As it swiped at the Witcher with too long, too sharp fingers, it shrieked a high pitched, angry noise. Rolling indignation and hatred. Geralt battered the assault away with the flat of his sword, moving seamlessly into a swing aimed at the thing's shoulder. It should have taken its arm off, should have sliced clean through the protruding joint and thin sinew holding it. But the Devourer had swerved back just in time, taking no more than a glancing scratch for Geralt's trouble. 

Geralt swung again, arcing round for its belly for yet more disappointment. The creature moved faster than it looked like it should, attempting to gouge and gash, avoiding the blade in ways only experience could teach. 

With each exchange though, Jaskier calmed a little more. This beast would not kill his friend. He could see how easily Geralt parried the attacks, the only damage on him a shallow scratch of a thing on his neck from the Devourer's flight from hiding. It, on the other hand, fared less kindly. While it kept far enough out of reach for serious injury, it rarely got so far as to avoid it completely. Geralt was slowly chipping away at it's flesh, one little hit at a time. Biding for the opportunity to slide past it's guard and take it's head. 

A mix of trepidation and determination surged through him. On careful feet and shaking legs, Jaskier slid from his cover. He skirted the edge of the settlement, one eye on the fight, the rest of his focus on the ruined buildings. Quickly passing the closest, a glorified pile of rubble, Jaskier found himself dodging loose stone and looser limbs. But he couldn't let it stop him. Somewhere in this Hell there was a girl, terrified, hurt, certain of her own death if it had not yet reached her. Geralt would win this fight, yes, but if Jaskier could lessen her suffering by even the few short minutes it would take, then he would. He would try even if it meant being laden with the memories of the pained, dead stares from rotten faces and empty eye sockets. Of the bodies among the bloody chaos that were just too damn _small_. 

Jaskier's cheeks were dripping before he reached the next building. It looked sturdy enough, standing there stubbornly. Like it could weather anything. Except for whatever had caused the back wall to collapse. With sick perception, he knew that it had not been recent. All the viscera sat upon the debris, the sprays of old blood all undisrupted. The only things to emerge from under the stones were the red-brown half puddles, sluiced through over time. 

With a shaky breath, Jaskier took the last few steps to the ruin, the edges of the pile shifting underfoot. And he did vomit then, entirely unable to hold it against the … the _human soup_ contained within. Jaskier staggered back as he continued to wretch, turning and bracing against the good, solid side wall separating him from _that_. Briefly, he processed that Geralt and that evil, nasty, murderous beast were in his line of sight, still fighting, and close. But not as close as the torso that rest against the wall ahead of him. He vomited again. Before he could catch his breath, Geralt was shouting to him.

"Jaskier! Get down!" Beneath the Witcher's yell was a horrifying gargling sound and, looking up, Jaskier saw the Devourer's flesh flexing and warping. It rippled and bloated, head stretching in nightmarish forms as Jaskier threw himself behind one of the larger rubble-remains of that first building. Above and around him, the explosion rang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's that one~   
> Thank you all for reading so far! <3   
> Chapter Five on Sunday.  
> Arianissa x


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is far too early in the morning. But here we are.

Shards of white covered Jaskier's body, hitting like violent hail in a winter storm, glinting through the bright spring sunlight as they flew. The echoes of destruction seemed to reverberate all around him. He didn't dare open his eyes until silence had well and truly set in. When he did, Jaskier was shocked to see very little had changed. Most of the damage was to the structure he had so very nearly been inside. The blast had shredded one corner of the house and a good chunk of the front wall. With two supporting walls now gone, the roof had quickly crumbled in on itself, spewing stone and dust and, closer in, blood. 

Jaskier's stomach threateningly lurched at the thought of what he had seen in there. He steeled himself, held it down and focused instead on getting eyes on Geralt. The man was getting to his feet not far away, half covered in the reds and blacks of Devourer insides. He looked over as Jaskier began scrabbling through the rocks to do the same.

"Alright?"

"They _explode_?! You didn't think to tell me that they _explode_?" His voice was shrill in disbelief and the dregs of panic. Geralt didn't answer though, instead watching Jaskier until he was righted, obviously assessing for injury. Jaskier breathed in shakily. "I'm fine, fine. _Go_. Find the girl."

The Witcher nodded, sheathing his blade and turning toward the building he had found the Devourer in without another word. Still trembling, adrenaline thrumming, Jaskier moved around the newly collapsed house. He gave it as wide a berth as he could, only taking his eyes from it every few seconds to make sure he wasn't about to _step_ on … anything. Once in front of it, he backed slowly until his hand was on the edge of the well. Geralt was out of sight but Jaskier could hear the sobbing, could hear the man trying to gently coax someone to him. The relief almost drowned him. He closed his eyes, twisting to fold both arms on the well and resting his forehead on them. For a minute, he just _breathed_. 

Eventually there were footsteps from behind him, Geralt and the girl both. Jaskier allowed himself a sigh and a half smile. He straightened, opening his eyes back up and preparing to face his surroundings again. But that wasn't what caught his attention. 

"Geralt!" Jaskier clutched at the bricks under his palms as Geralt came up, the quiet sobs following and a murmured 'shit'. "It looks like he's still breathing."

The well, like the rest of this place, was old and disused by anything vaguely human. Heavens only knew how long had passed since it dried, filling slowly instead with dirt and the ever-accumulating wilt of the forest. Even so, it still dipped a good ten feet below the brim. And there, bundled at the bottom was the body of a boy. 

"Drop me down."

"What?" Jaskier turned at Geralt's question and finally saw the girl they had come for. She was clinging to Geralt's arm, fingers digging desperately under the seams of his armour. As much of her body as she could without letting go was hid behind the Witcher's bulk. She looked so _broken_. Jaskier's own tears threatened him again, watching her terrified eyes spill theirs. Dirty brown hair clung in the wet trails, hair that had been sliced, torn, pulled, leaving a patchy mess of uneven clumps coming no further than her chin. And there was blood. Not the old layers of it that infested this place, she was covered in that plenty. No, fresh blood. _Her_ blood. Seeping through her tattered dress at the shoulder and from tears across her knees, scratches, bruises. So many bruises. 

Jaskier lost his words for a moment, looking upon this girl. She couldn't have been more than fifteen. Without thinking he reached his hand up, an urgent need to try and comfort, _reassure_ , rushing through him. She flinched back immediately, eyes scrunched, pushing as close to Geralt as possible. 

"Jaskier." Geralt spoke his name quietly, not in admonishment, a reassurance for _him_ and a call back to task. He pulled his hand back and let his determination smother everything else. 

"Drop me down. We need to get him out and unless you've got rope hidden somewhere under that armour of yours … If nothing else, if I can't lift him enough for you to get him, I can check his injuries and do what I can to keep him alive until you get back." 

"And what about you?" 

"I'll be fine, Geralt. Worst case, I spend a few hours alone in a hole." Jaskier gave it the best cocky grin he could. It didn't matter that he knew Geralt would see right through it. He knew the man would respect his decision if there really was no other way. "Besides, I know you'll be back to rescue me in no time!" 

There was a disapproving rumble of a grunt but Geralt made no actual objections. That was that then. Or would have, had there not been a little tug on the Witcher's arm. The girl was looking to Geralt's face, turning back to where they had come from when she had his attention. 

"Something we can use?" A nod. "Alright. Stay with Jaskier while I search?"

Geralt remained patient, waiting for the struck look to pass. He kept her gaze, calm and certain until she looked to Jaskier. Jaskier, in turn, held out his hand to her once more. It took almost a minute for her to reach back but she did and slowly, she allowed the bard to pull her to him. Now out from behind the wall that was Geralt, he was able to see more of her wounds. More superficial scrapes mostly but on her waist at the right side were four long gashes. They were no longer bleeding but they worried Jaskier. He drew her closer, carefully wrapping his arms round her back, head to his chest. She was shaking more than him.

"Hey, we've got you now. You're safe. When we get him out of there, we're going to get these bandaged up, ok?" He felt the tiniest of nods and gave her a soft squeeze, holding her until Geralt came back. When he did, it was with a remarkably intact coil of thick rope. Jaskier didn't even try to mask his surprise. 

"It was in the rafters." Answering the unspoken question, Geralt started unwinding the rope, tugging along its length to check for weakness. "Old but seems sturdy enough. You ready?" 

"Yeah." Uncertain hands clawed at his shirt but this had to be done. Jaskier pulled back slightly, getting the girl to look at him. He kept hold of her arm, rubbing it with his thumb, silently swearing that he still had her. 

"This guy," He motioned to Geralt without breaking eye contact, "He's pretty but he's not very bright so you're going to have to keep an eye on him while I'm down there, ok? Make sure he doesn't do anything daft like forgetting to hold the rope or something." 

It wasn't enough to bring a laugh or even a smile. But Jaskier was gratified to see something in her gaze soften, her body get a little less tense. He gave her the brightest smile he could. "And if he does do something stupid, give him a good kick for me, eh? Right in the shin if you have to."

With a great deal of reluctance, the girl released her grip, stepping back so that Jaskier's hand on her arm was the only point of contact. It was another battle to keep his smile in the face of that vulnerable little creature. "I'll be back up soon." 

Jaskier let go, his heart constricting as he turned from her. Without a word, Geralt coiled one end of the rope round his forearm and then dropped the other into the well. A breath later and Jaskier had his legs over the rim, coarse hemp fibres digging into his palm. And down he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A moment of silence please, for my poor brain. It has been uncooperative for half the week and now I find myself watching three of my Sister-in-Law's kids. Four children below the age of six in one little flat. I don't know how I got the little sleep I did...  
> Back to topic, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and, as ever, thank you for reading!   
> Chapter Six (which I am not terribly pleased with) will be up on Wednesday.   
> Happy Sunday, lovely people!   
> Ari x


	6. Chapter 6

"Ok, go." Apprehension thrummed through Jaskier as the body in his arms slowly began to lift. In a well. Off the road. Surrounded by blood and corpses and the cloying scent of death. But in this moment the thing he feared most was that his knots wouldn't keep. That he would fail to catch the boy they held if they did. That if he wasn't already meant for the afterlife, a failed rescue might just seal it for him. 

Above, Geralt hoisted the rope that Jaskier had wound and tied round the unconscious lad. His movements were smooth, trying to jostle the line as little as possible, even as his friend steadied it from below. There was a thankfully small gap between Jaskier's final brush of fingers and the moment that Geralt was able to grasp an arm and pull the slim body clear of the well. 

A minute passed after that, Jaskier anxiously waiting, until the rope unfurled toward him again. He wasted no time in grabbing at it and scrambled back up into the Hellscape around them, Geralt's hand on his helping him the last step. With effort, he kept his attention as far from his surroundings as he could. His focus fell instead wholly on the injured girl, on her knees In the dirt, and the unconscious boy whose head she cradled in her lap. 

"How is he?" Jaskier didn't dare take his eyes from them as he pulled his bag from over his shoulder and joined them on the ground.

"I can't see any serious wounds. At a guess, I'd say the worst of it is dehydration. Won't know for sure until we get him to a healer though." Geralt crouched next to them. A water flask was quickly put in his hand, set to the task of _rehydrating_. While that was fumbled with, Jaskier pulled more from his bag. Bandages, gauze, alcohol. He wasted no time, shuffling forward a bit more and taking a better look at the girl's shoulder. 

"Can I?" Jaskier held the alcohol and a piece of the gauze, motioning to her wound. "It will sting but it's better that we clean it."

The girl hesitated but nodded, turning her gaze back to her lap and stroking at the hair beneath her fingers in distraction. Every so often she would help Geralt, tilting the boy's head as water was given to him. She was trying to do the same as him, Jaskier realised, concentrating on someone who needed her and attempting to stomp down her own terror and pain. He steeled himself, determined to get this done as carefully and quickly as he could. So with shaking hands, he began to peel away shredded fabric and clean the wound.

There were tears and sobs and grit teeth. Her eyes clenched but the brave little thing never once pulled away. And as Jaskier began applying a fresh gauze and wrapping her shoulder best he could, Geralt started on the gashes at her waist. 

As soon as they were done and Jaskier was confident there were no other serious injuries, they started the journey back. Geralt hoisted the boy over his shoulder, keeping him as upright as possible while Jaskier helped the girl back to her feet. When she wobbled precariously, he slid an arm around her back, allowing the hands in his shirt without a word. 

Like that they tracked back through the trees. It was a graceless amble and Jaskier was sure Geralt was purposely stomping a path in the brush. A hunch that was confirmed when then finally made it back to the road. Back to that unassuming scene that had so underwhelmed him. Geralt waited for the two of them to clear the tree line before taking a knife and carving a clear cross into the trunk beside their track. 

The walk after that was quiet. Even when they stopped for the girl to rest and drink, no more than a few comforting words were shared. It grated on Jaskier's mind, the images, the questions, the words that itched to get out. Words that were not meant for here beside ears that they might hurt. But they were roiling about in his head, promising tears and nightmares. If he didn't do something, he was certain he would stop breathing. 

Fighting the overpowering emotions, Jaskier looked to Geralt. The man kept pace with them, never allowing the young lady on Jaskier's other side to feel pressured into more speed than she was capable of. He made a show, too, of checking their surroundings. Not often but enough to let her know he was keeping watch. It was such a subtle thing, most people wouldn't realise the ruse. Jaskier knew better though. 

On the next 'check', Geralt caught his gaze. The look silently asked how he faired. Jaskier wished he could offer up a smile and swear he was fine. But that would be a lie too far. Instead he looked back to the road, knowing the vulnerability he felt had already been seen. 

A stretch later and the feeling had only worsened. Jaskier chewed at his lip. He knew Geralt had continued to watch him, discreet but concerned. Gods, he needed to talk, order out the chaos and ground himself. A thought flit about at the edge of his rationality. A bandage, not a cure. He needed something to hold on to, the same way small hands held to him. And his ever reliable pillar of safety was right there. Just a matter of inches. With a small glance over, avoiding meeting the Witcher's gaze, Jaskier took hold of the cuff of Geralt's undershirt. 

It wasn't a surprise when it was pulled from his grip, he knew Geralt's questioning eyes were on him. He just kept on ahead. It had been a long shot, after all. But then a leather glove was wrapping round his fingers, the reassuring squeeze silencing the consuming tempest. If it was only for now, it was relief enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello again <3  
> As I said in my last notes, I'm not terribly sure about this chapter. I had quite the block for a few days and some of this felt forced as I was getting it out. But we got there in the end and chapter 7 isn't too far from being done now as well. Sorry for how bloody angsty this got though XD   
> Next update will be Saturday~  
> Much love to you all!  
> Ari x


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still Saturday, we totally got this!

The trees had barely begun to thin around the path when Geralt, Jaskier and their two wards were set upon again. Not by monsters but by worried hands, thankful grasps. As soon as they came into sight of the town, Geralt's clients and two of the guards had rushed to them. In what felt like a blink, the children had been taken in search of the nearest healer and the Witcher had begun discussing the atrocity they had uncovered with the remaining guard. 

Jaskier was left floating, stranded in a weird haze as he waited. Rather than the crushing waves of confused thoughts he expected when Geralt had been drawn from his side, he had instead been left with silence. An echoing emptiness that was somehow both better and worse than the overpowering emotions he had dealt with on the road. He didn't know how long it had been when Geralt finally snapped him back but it had certainly been a while. And Jaskier suspected the call of his name that summoned him hadn't been the first. There was a hand on his arm and worried golden eyes. When he was certain of Jaskier's attention, the Witcher spoke again. 

"They are sending a contingent out at sunrise to assess the area and see if any of the bodies can be identified. They'll send word on those children when my payment is brought to the inn as well." Geralt paused, waiting for Jaskier's usually inevitable comment. At the silence, he continued. "Join me there? The food is fair and you can have a bath drawn. I doubt your Lady will want you swooning over her in the state you're in."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right." He managed a weak smile. In truth, he hadn't spared a thought to what he might look like at present. Surely not a pretty sight. Even less mind had been paid to Amarinda and the other men. Jaskier found he cared little for either right now. Though cleaning the horrors from his body and having the opportunity to sit and work through the situation somewhere safe, that he definitely needed.

The inn Geralt had lodged in was small but well kept, cosy and homely. The owner's wife had greeted them and sent her son to start heating water before the word bath could pass the Witcher's lips. That done, she sent them off to the room with the promise of tea while they waited. 

The room itself was just as modest. A single bed against one wall, nightstand and basin beside it. A small hearth occupied the opposite side with a decent looking tub set before it. Two thin windows let in the afternoon light, swearing to Jaskier that the day had not been as long yet as it felt. The last was a chair next to the door, upon which was one of Geralt's saddle bags. The rest of the man's belongings were unceremoniously piled around it's legs. 

As Geralt closed the door, Jaskier evicted the bag from its perch and sat heavily in its place. Silence reigned a little longer, the bard trying to collect all his tangled threads back in so as best to see where to pull and begin the unravelling. 

"How long, do you think?" It wasn't the loudest question but it was the easiest to push out in the end. Geralt paused where he had started to unbuckle his armour and turned back toward him. 

"Hard to say. A few years at least, judging from some of the bones. But since they've been exposed to the elements so long, well, it may be less than it looks." There was a soft thud as leather pauldrons hit the floor. 

"There were so many. How can so many people disappear without anyone noticing? I just, I can't understand it." Jaskier's face was in his hands now, elbows braced on his knees. He was speaking quietly but it didn't matter, he knew Geralt would hear. "And it would have kept going. If it hadn't gone for that poor girl and left the others, it could have been an age before anything was done."

"It's done now, Jaskier. The beast is dead. No use worrying about a future that won't come to pass." More thuds and then Geralt was sitting down on the edge of his bed. Jaskier watched his feet through his fingers, wishing that it was as simple to do as say. Several heartbeats passed before the next words came. 

"Did you see it? Inside that building, I mean. The one I was beside when you killed it." 

"I didn't." 

Jaskier took a deep breath and held it. 

"It was awful, Geralt. Worse than all the rest of it. You could have stared at it for a week and still not known how many… how many people were in there." It made him feel sick again. 

"I'm sorry." The unexpected apology brought Jaskier's eyes up. 

"Why?" 

"If I'd have known…" The guilt swimming in Geralt's eyes was too much, like he believed he held any responsibility. As if he had not once more been the only honest hero of the day.

"You couldn't have. You, of all people, have nothing to apologise for." There was more he wanted to say, a thousand counters and parries to any self-deprecation forming on his tongue. But they were cut short by the curt rapping on the door and Geralt moving to answer it. 

The landlady stood in the hall with a small tray, a pot of tea and some plain biscuits atop it. As Geralt took it with thanks, she inquired as to the success of his job. They spent a few minutes chatting until she dismissed herself to check on the state of their bath water. When she was gone, Geralt poured the tea, handed a cup to Jaskier and then returned to his bed. 

"What are you thinking?" 

Jaskier had continued carding through the day while Geralt talked and his thoughts kept drifting back to the same point.

"I'm trying to make sense of that thing. It's strange, after all that time without being caught, what it did yesterday seems… I don't know, almost careless. It obviously wasn't stupid so why do something so reckless?"

"Hmm. I think it was the boy." That answer surprised Jaskier. But truth be told, he had nowhere to place him in his mind's line of events. With his look of confusion, Geralt continued. "If he was the intended prey, he may have thrown himself into that well to escape the Devourer's reach. I imagine having him there and being unable to harm or feed on him would have riled it up. It likely got desperate to the point it threw itself at the next human it found, consequences be damned."

It made sense, he supposed. Jaskier mulled through it more as he slowly drank his tea. The only chance he had of knowing for sure was if the boy survived this. He would just have to wait. Wait and pray to whichever of the Gods might listen that both those children would pull through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evening guys :)   
> So I have now caught up with myself on this. I'll still be aiming for every three days but it might be a bit of a longer wait at times.  
> As for Caught Bare, I'm still at it. The last chapter has already racked up 2k words and I'm still not close to the end I want for it. Sorry it's taking so long but hopefully it will be worth the wait <3  
> Until Tuesday~   
> Ari x


	8. Chapter 8

Evening had fallen with little fuss. Geralt had insisted Jaskier take the first bath and after, they had taken dinner in the common room. The man had been right about the food. Even though the thought of eating had repulsed Jaskier, he still went down. When the meal was placed in front of them however, he found breads, potatoes, white meats, relatively plain but filling foods. Things that he could eat slowly. The Landlady was a saint. Jaskier couldn’t remember the last time he had met someone so easily considerate, with the wisdom to know what you needed before you realised it yourself. He was almost envious of the woman’s son. 

After dinner, Jaskier had begged one more boon from their host and she had bustled off with a smile. On her return, she carried a handful of blank parchments and a pot of ink. With a “Use as much as you need, dear,” she was off again, seeing to her other guests. 

When they returned to Geralt’s room, Jaskier settled himself on the floor by the hearth. A small fire had been lit while they were gone to ward off the evening chill that was creeping in. By the tub, Geralt began tending to his armour, meticulously scrubbing Devourer from the creases and seams. It was an easy quiet, broken only occasionally by soft hums over the crackling of the flames and the scritch of Jaskier’s borrowed quill. Hours passed like that and it wasn’t until Geralt called out to him that he realised how many. 

“Jaskier, you need to rest.” When the bard turned, he found Geralt was already in bed, stripped to his undergarments and half sat against the headboard. His armour, as clean as it would ever be, was piled by the chair and already dry. Jaskier pulled his knees up as he moved to face Geralt properly, a sharp pain tingling it’s way down both his legs in protest of their disuse. 

“I don’t think I could sleep.” He was exhausted beyond belief but his mind held a stubborn energy, a restlessness he didn’t think he could overcome. 

“Then don’t. But bank the fire at the least and come lay down.”

Reluctantly, Jaskier did as he was bid, bedding the already dying fire down in it’s own ashes. In the last shreds of smouldering light, he moved his work over to the chair and began to undress. He was in Geralt’s spare tunic and trousers, ill fit to him in all but height and cinched in awkwardly at the waist. It was, however, infinitely preferable to his own garb. Thinking on it, Jaskier wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just thrown the clothes in the fire to be done with them. Thankfully, his own underclothes had survived the day, a small mercy all things considered but one he was glad of. Once stripped, Jaskier half stumbled to the bed, following the sounds of Geralt’s shuffling as the light finally faded to nothing. 

As he knew it would, sleep eluded him. It took a great deal of effort to fight the urge to twist and turn, to lay still and try to settle. Jaskier relented here and there, not wanting to disturb Geralt too much. He knew the other man was awake, even now with his eyes closed, head pillowed on his arm and to the rest of the world seemingly lost until morning. But he needed the rest too. More so. Jaskier hadn’t been the one fighting, after all. Or carrying young boys for miles to safety. Yet still, another question itched at his tongue as they lay in the darkness. 

"Hey Geralt, are you ok?" Jaskier spoke softly, shifting onto his side to face his friend. With sight adjusted as much as it would, he could just barely see Geralt's features, the weak moonlight coming in at the man's back doing little to help. 

"I've seen worse." The Witcher didn't open his eyes as he replied, a curt answer that would have ended the conversation for anyone else. Jaskier wasn't anyone else.

"I know. Not what I asked though, is it?" He paused, finding the right words to try and coax an honest answer out, then quietly continued. "Just because it's not the worst you've seen doesn't mean you're ok." 

Geralt sighed, orange sparkling in the dark as he opened his eyes to regard Jaskier. "You see all kinds in this line of work and not always from monsters. I'd be lying if I said it ever got easier. You just get better at pushing it down. You _have to_. Else you'd never be able to keep forward." 

Jaskier hesitated then resolved, put his hand on Geralt's forearm between them and tried a small smile. "You know, you could just say no. I've seen you take bigger things than today apart in seconds. I certainly won't be thinking any less of you for not being ok after that. Hells, I'd be worried for anyone that would be." 

Geralt didn't answer right away, or at all really, save for the hum of acknowledgement to the bard's words. But he did allow Jaskier's hand to remain where it was until the next time the restlessness drove him to wiggling. And when he did, ending up facing the door once more, it did not escape Jaskier's notice that Geralt seemed to shuffle just a little closer to him. After that, he couldn't say, finally falling asleep to the bubble of affection swimming comfort into his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo … it's been a little longer than I was planning …   
> I hope everyone is well. As it stands, I've been in isolation for a couple of weeks due to underlying health conditions (lets hear it for everyone on the 12 week preventative isolation!) and the UK is of course now on full lockdown too~ My daughter thought it would be a great idea to get a cold a week before the schools closed so she has been at my ankles and on my nerves constantly XD She also shared so I've been crashed out for the best part of this week. Will I ever be productive again? Probably. But between attempting to home school a rambunctious five year old and keeping my now working from home Husband in check, I'm going to make no deadline promises.   
> Until next time, please keep safe and well as best you can. And while I may be asleep half the time and slow to respond, if any of you are bored/lonely/need to vent about the state of the world, drop me a message and we can chat our way through these pressing times <3   
> Ari x


	9. Chapter 9

Bright sunshine. A coastal breeze. Energetic market chatter and birdsong, sharp and melodic. Idyllic. Or it would be. _Should be_. This day was as glorious as the last had been but it was tainted. Ruined by the memory of that one and by the quiet anxiety that was slowly falling across the town. As people awoke and started about their mornings, the word spread like plague. Rumours that, for once, were likely nowhere near the true horrors that would soon be confirmed to them. Jaskier watched them with a numb sort of acceptance, ignoring the looks that Geralt’s presence garnered, the morbidly curious who had heard the news but hadn’t the guts to ask of it. 

It wasn’t all grim. Before they had left the inn, a town guard and a member of the merchant caravan that had hired Geralt had come by, as promised. They brought payment and the news that both children, though quite understandably traumatised, would survive the ordeal. The young lady’s more serious wounds had been tended and stitched and she was with her family in a home close to the healer. The boy had regained consciousness during the night but had yet to speak. Beyond that and the superficial wounds, he appeared to be alright. It was unknown if they would be able to identify him or if he had any surviving kin. Kindly though, the merchant had sworn to them that his family would safeguard the boy if no other options were forthcoming. As it was, their girl was reluctant to leave his side and had fought her way back to him at the healer’s that morning. 

It brought more than a little relief to Jaskier’s mind. The one bright point in all the horror. The children would live and no more would die. He would continue on with that knowledge and do his damnedest to ensure those who were not so lucky would be remembered. Now all he had to do was find the strength to smile and make it through the reunion with his companions with a modicum grace. A feat he didn’t truly have the will to do. 

They walked now to that fate, Geralt mercifully at his side. The only thing holding him up against the weight of the stone in his stomach. One more corner and the building came into view, free standing, elegant, all stained glass and clean stone. Classes above last night’s accommodation yet all Jaskier wanted to do was skitter back to Geralt’s small room and not emerge until winter. 

It was too late for that, however. The moment that corner had passed, they had been spotted. Dangral was leant just shy of the entryway, in light leathers and a pipe in hand. Concern overtook his face when he saw them and he quickly tapped out his pipe as they approached.

“Hey, we heard about what happened. Are you alright?” The man’s gaze flit between Jaskier and Geralt, a silent debate over how guarded he should be waging behind it. 

“Honestly? Not in the slightest. How have things been here?” There was uncertainty behind Dangral’s brown eyes but he relaxed his stance and turned his attention fully to Jaskier.

“Amarinda has been beside herself. Darius is in there with her now, only just talked her out of coming to hunt you down.” He sighed. “She was in a mood when she returned without you but when the word came that you’d arrived back and were nowhere to be seen? And with the rumours … Well, you can imagine.” 

Jaskier could only offer up his own sigh and apologize. “It was necessary. And I had hoped she wouldn’t make too much fuss, she did give me leave until this evening, after all.” 

“Should have run while you had the chance.” It was a weak attempt to lighten the mood but Dangral managed to bring a smile to Jaskier’s face in the effort. He clapped the bard on the shoulder and half turned. “You go on in. I’m gonna go take a leak out back, I’ll see you in there.” 

The interior of the inn was no less impressive than its shell, elaborately decorated and as close to decadent as one could get without becoming ostentatious. Carefully crafted panelling covered the walls. The tables, chairs and cabinets held delicately carved details. There were coloured glass ornaments across the entire room, with a particularly complicated piece at one end of the bar. Even the ceiling took pride, with glass spheres in neat little nets hanging from it. It should have been out of place in a town of this size but here it stood nonetheless. 

And there, at a corner table close to the bar and closer still to the stairs to the rooms, sat Lady Amarinda and Darius. They looked to still be bickering, until the fated moment Amarinda looked up.

"Jaskier!" She was on her feet right away, marching at him with the clicking of her heels on wood. Regarding him critically, she tutted. "What in Heavens are you wearing?"

That certainly hadn't been the first inquiry Jaskier had been expecting but he covered the surprise best he could, affecting a smile and forcing a lightness into his voice. "I … My clothes were somewhat sullied on my little adventure, my dear. Geralt here was kind enough to lend me some dignity and these clean pieces."

Amarinda scowled openly and a little petulantly, clearly not pleased with Jaskier's new look. It grated at his fragile nerves, to have a kindness scorned right now. "Come now. A little road dust wouldn't harm my sensibilities."

"My dear, dust was the least of it. I was covered in mud, blood, vomit, some other things that I don't want to think about and, even bathed, it still feels like there is rubble in my hair." The admonition flowed out before Jaskier could catch himself. As an afterthought, he added, "It would harm _my_ sensibilities to be seen as such."

The inevitable rebuttal was cut thankfully short when the door opened and Dangral reappeared. "Alright, lads? Not even sat down yet? Why don't you go and get changed, Jaskier. You hardly look yourself like that. I'll have drinks in for you when you come back down."

"Yes. Yes, I think that would be for the best."Jaskier didn’t wait for anything more to be said. Nodding to his companions, he quickly skirted around Amarinda. But he could feel the emerald glare boring into his back as he retreated up the stairs, Geralt at his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evening all~~  
> Hope you find this offering acceptable! Next chapter shall be Dinner with Amarinda and the boys~ Drama, ahoy!  
> I think about three more chapters will wrap this up and then a little epilogue on top :) <3  
> On other notes, The Amazing Devil's new album is finally streaming *w* <3 Anyone else been listening? It's been worth the wait, in my opinion! Wild Blue Yonder is my favourite at present, so good X3  
> As ever, I hope you are all keeping safe and well!  
> Until next time,   
> Arianissa x

**Author's Note:**

> Morning~  
> I hope all you lovely people are well! :)
> 
> I've mentioned a more plot-based work in progress to a few of you and well, here it is! I feel it's a bit of a weak start but it gets better, I promise XD Or at least, I hope!  
> Second chapter will be posted in a few days. I'm actually pretty far through but I'm going to scatter the updates so I don't catch up on myself too quickly. And for those of you following Caught Bare, the final chapter should be out within the week. It is still trying to run away with me though, cheeky thing!  
> Thanks so much for reading guys! Much love <3
> 
> Arianissa x


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